


Without You

by stormbornbxtch



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1940s, F/M, loosely based on the notebook
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2020-06-23 17:40:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19706254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormbornbxtch/pseuds/stormbornbxtch
Summary: Jon and Daenerys fell in love the summer her family visited their estate in the north. Years since their romance, she returns to Winterfell and she's not alone.





	1. Run Away With Me

**Author's Note:**

> _Everything I want I have_  
>  _Money, notoriety and rivieras_ br />  
>  _I even think I found God_  
>  _In the flash bulbs of the pretty cameras_  
>  _Pretty cameras, pretty cameras_  
>  _Am I glamorous? Tell me, am I glamorous?_
> 
> _Hello? Hello?_  
>  _C-can you hear me?_  
>  _I can be your China doll_  
>  _If you want to see me fall_  
>  _Boy, you're so dope_  
>  _Your love is deadly_  
>  _Tell me life is beautiful_  
>  _They all think I have it all_  
>  _I'm nothing without you_
> 
> _All my dreams and all the lights mean_
> 
> _Nothing without you_
> 
> _Summertime is nice and hot_  
>  _And my life is sweet like vanilla is_  
>  _Gold and silver line my heart_
> 
> _But burned into my brain are these stolen images_  
>  _Stolen images, baby, stolen images_
> 
> _Can you picture it?_  
>  _Baby, the life we could've lived?_
> 
> _Hello? Hello?_  
>  _C-can you hear me?_  
>  _I can be your China doll_  
>  _If you like to see me fall_  
>  _Boy, you're so dope_
> 
> _Your love is deadly_  
>  _Tell me life is beautiful_  
>  _They all think I have it all_
> 
> _I'm nothing without you_  
>  _All my dreams and all the lights mean_  
>  _Nothing without you_  
>  _We were two kids, just tryin' to get out_
> 
> _Live on the dark side of the American dream_  
>  _We would dance all night, play our music loud_  
>  _When we grew up, nothing was what it seemed_
> 
> _Hello? Hello?_  
>  _C-can you hear me?_
> 
> _I can be your China doll_  
>  _If you like to see me fall_  
>  _Boy, you're so dope_  
>  _Your love is deadly_  
>  _Tell me life is beautiful_
> 
> _They think that I have it all_  
>  _I'm nothing without you_  
>  _All my dreams and all the lights mean_  
>  _Nothing without you_  
>  _Hello? Hello?_  
>  _C-can you hear me?_  
>  _I can be your China doll_  
>  _If you like to see me fall_  
>  _Boy, you're so dope_  
>  _Your love is deadly_  
>  _Tell me life is beautiful_  
>  _They think that I have it all_  
>  _I've nothing without you_  
>  _All my dreams and all the lights mean_  
>  _Nothing without you_  
>  _All my dreams and all the lights mean_  
>  _Nothing if I can't have you_
> 
> **_Lana Del Rey - Without You_**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the calm before the storm

[Without Part One Cover Image](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161441232@N05/46847992372/in/dateposted-public/)

His hands were soft against her skin, a gentleness laced in his fingertips as he traced over it. No one had ever been as gentle with her as he was and at times, like now, it was overwhelming. Not in the way that made her want him to stop though, she just needed to get used to him but then again, she had been saying that for months now.

Daenerys wasn't sure if she could ever get used to a man like Jon Snow. The first time he had ever touched her in a way like this, she felt like what she imagined spring to feel. Blissful and admired, beautiful and revived and so very alive. That feeling had yet to fade and she hoped it never would.

A new found light shone within her with his presence and it had yet to be extinguished. His touch had warmed her soul. His words, laced with honey had become music to her ears. He was the epitome of beauty, a rare one that could not be found within the confines of a TV screen or a magazine cover. His kind of beauty only came around once in a lifetime and he never failed to leave her breathless in his wake.

Every word he spoke, every move he made, every syllable that fell from his tongue. She savored them, as if at any moment they could all be taken away from her. She had known the world's cruelties all her life and for her to be granted someone like him was unprecedented, it didn't quite feel real yet. There was this grey cloud that loomed over her whenever he was around, just waiting for the rain to come after a summer of endless sunshine and ruin her little parade of love. Waiting for the day he and everything that had come with him would be ripped away from her.

Yet here she was, instead of pushing him away, she pulled him in closer. Breathing him in whenever she could because some part of her had always known, Jon Snow was too good to be true. Much too good to last.

So for the time being, she reveled in him. All that he was.

And now, as the pale moon shone through the wide white curtained covered windows of her bedroom, she took him in. Tracing gentle circles against his chest, loving the way the light reflected against his skin. He was beautiful, impossibly beautiful. She had snuck him in again tonight, like she had every night for the last few months. And for every night she did, they had done this. Admired one another, whether it'd be physically or mentally. Whether they talked for hours or made love within the same amount of time. Mutual admiration was always at the center of it all.

Her fingertips traced the delicate scars he had earned from a war three years prior, a war that she had never agreed with and a war her father had profited from greatly. They were both ashamed of them, Jon because he thought they were unsightly against his skin and they would forever remind him of the brother he lost. Daenerys hated them because she felt the partial guilt. Without her family's involvement, she truly believed all the damage wouldn't have been possible. Yet, she could never understand Jon's reasoning, they were a reminder of his bravery and she found them alluring.

Everything about Jon Snow was alluring, was beautiful and by an extension so were his scars.

Her eyes fluttered close as she felt his fingers rake through the silver blonde of her hair. He was humming now, an old northern lullaby that had a way of soothing her soul when it emitted from him. It had moved her to sleep for the majority of their fleeting summer nights together. 

But not this time.

Not tonight.

Not when she'd be leaving at noon the next day.

"Jon" her voice was soft but it was the only sound this time of night besides the crickets that laid outside and the gentle breezes of night.

"Hmm."

He was dozing off, she knew it. He couldn't, not on their last night.

"I leave tomorrow."

His hands froze on her scalp and she could feel the muscles in his chest tighten beneath her. He was wide awake now and she knew it. They had been dancing around the topic of her departure for days now and she couldn't do it anymore. She wouldn't.

It was this constant elephant in the room and it had grown insufferable. Eating away at them both since the beginning but both of them refused to talk about it. They had been so open with one another about anything and everything since summer began, she never wanted that to change. He had become her best friend over the past few weeks, a person she trusted more than anything. She never wanted to stop knowing and understanding the man that she had come to fall hopelessly in love with.

Yet when it came to this, they hadn't uttered a single word and the silence had been deafening.

"Dany."

He was the only man that had ever called her that, everyone in her life had made it a point to identify her by her formalities. In a way it had annoyed her to only be seen as a Targaryen and nothing more, no one had ever bothered to look beyond her name. Except for Jon, he had seen her as more than that, he had seen her for what she was and not what she represented. She was grateful for it and she had loved the sound of the simple syllables leaving his lips, in the gruff northern accent she had grown to love. Her heart fluttered in her chest at the nickname, if only he truly knew the effect he had on her.

"I know, I know you said not to dwell. To leave it for another day but there will never be another day. Not after tonight." She rose from her spot on his chest, ignoring the nerves in her body that urged to go back at the lost of warmth. How was it that he made her so weak?

She was a Targaryen, although she hated being reduced to it she was one. Her family was known for its strength and yet here she was, weaker than she even knew she could be because of him.

Jon Snow was her achilles heel.

The only reason she could stand it was because she knew the same was true for him. She had blinded his senses, bewitched him, mind, body and soul.

She didn't want to lose him.

She didn't think she'd survive it.

"I know what I said, I jus-" He started but she knew exactly where this was going, towards reason. Stupid logic that ruined the best of things, that would ruin them. He would overthink and worry about their future instead of focusing on what was in the present and she wouldn't let that happen. Not now.

"Run away with me."

It was a simple sentence. Four words, Five Syllables, Thirteen letters.

A proposal that could very well change the course of their lives forever. 

Maybe she was being crazy and irrational, maybe she was letting her heart run her and throwing caution to the wind but she didn't care. Daenerys had spent her entire life letting caution and thoughts of the future control her, it was time to give her heart a fighting chance for once.

Jon froze, beautiful grey eyes wide as he stared up at her. Registering the words that had tumbled from her lips. Gods, Daenerys wished she had her paints with her. A canvas of this moment with him like this. Naked as the day he was born, hair in a disarray, glasses somewhere scattered on the ground below with a simple sheet covering his manhood and a thin glimmer of sweat from their passionate exchange moments before.

He was truly breathtaking like this.

Unfortunately, he had been this breathtaking all summer. She had run out of paints and paper by mid-July.

"Daenerys, what are you saying?" He whispered, voice lighter than a feather. She breathed in sharply at the sound, why did he have to do that? Jumble her thoughts the way he did with a simple look, her brain was mush in his presence and her heart held all the power and there was absolutely nothing she could do to change that.

He knew exactly what she was saying. If she were to catch the train tomorrow and return to Dragonstone with her family, she would never see him again. They both knew this.

She'd be married off to a young man from another aristocratic family, probably Renly Baratheon of the Baratheons whom she was positive took a liking to the sex opposite of hers. Their union would be one of political and social gain for both their families, combine their companies and both would be even richer. It's not like they needed more money though, but Robert and her father were greedy power hungry men who didn't need anymore wealth or influence.

The thought frightened her a bit but over time, she had grown used to the idea. Knowing it was what her family wanted and that it would better their name in the eyes of the public. For as long as she can remember, her name had been the driving force in every single major decision she had ever made in her life. Or the decisions that were made for her.

Where she went to primary school, what dress she wore to her cotillion. The mastery of her few chosen arts such as piano and several other languages and for as long as she can remember, her mother had been instructing her on the ways that a Targaryen woman should be seen. Upholding her name had been all her life was, she had forced herself to live with it, to accept it.

Until Jon Snow.

Now all she wanted was him. Him and only him for the rest of their years and if that meant abandoning all she knew, well then, that's just what she would have to do. He gave her the courage to dream up a life for herself. A life that wasn’t run by her family or driven to further a name that she didn't chose.

She'd do anything for this man and for the dreams he inspired within her. 

"You are the only person that I want a future with. The only man I can envision one with and-"

"And I will not be the last. Do you know what I am Daenerys? Do you?" He interjected, rising from his spot to look her in her eyes

Not this again, please not this again.

"I'm a bastard. I can give you nothing, I can give your family nothing-"

"You have already given me so much Jon Snow."

Her voice was softer than a whisper, a weak breath against his lips which were mere inches from her own. The palm of her hand found his cheek, thumb stroking gently to calm his doubts. He had given her so much and he still couldn't fathom all that he had done. He had shown her what it truly meant to love and be loved. He had shown her true kindness and compassion.

Jon Snow was the most benevolent man she had ever met. The best person she had ever known and probably would ever know. She never wanted to live a life without him and she was sure of it.

"Dany I-" She wouldn't let him doubt this, not their feelings or himself.

"No, I already know the troubles that are running through your mind but you need to understand that I will never see you as a bastard. Or as a man who isn't worthy of me. In my eyes, you are the only man who ever will be. Damn anyone who has ever made you feel lesser than you are."

She moved forward, forehead resting upon his tenderly. Jon's right hand found its way under her chin and gently, he angled her up to meet his lips.

Kissing Jon Snow was the equivalent of letting cool waves wash over your heated skin on the hottest of days. It was relief flushing through your veins in every possible way. Daenerys moved to grip his shoulders for dear life, kissing him was like feeling rain after the driest of droughts. It was like finding oxygen in deep space.

Daenerys never wanted to go a day in her life without feeling his relief.

Her eyes stayed shut as he pulled away only to flutter open when the heat of his breath ghosted over her lips once again.

"Dany I can't. I can't steal you away from all this, from all that you have. I can't take that from you." She wanted to scream out in frustration and she might've if her mind wasn't so hazy.

"You wouldn't be stealing me away from anything. It was my idea Jon and I want to go with you, I'm not giving up on anything if I go, I'm gaining so much more." She breathed out once she found the composure to do so.

"You'll be leaving your family Dany."

"My family has never loved me in the way a family should, in the way you love yours. My family loves what I can offer them through marriage, not me. You are more of a family to me then they have ever been. I have been nothing but a pawn in their games of power. They don't see me, you do."

His thumb ran gingerly against her cheek and she leaned into his touch without thinking of it.

"Dany, if we do this you'll be turning your back on everything. On the wealth and prestige-"

"I've had wealth and prestige my whole life, none of it has ever and will ever amount to all that you are. I would give up kingdoms and destroy dynasties for you."

He was staring at her, grey eyes piercing through her violet. Jon was brooding, thinking too much about her proposal. He probably thought that this was a random act of passion, a spoiled girl wishing to rebel against her parents. It wasn't.

Aerys and Rhaella Targaryen had always made sure they're children, especially her, were painfully grounded. She had known a life in which she earned whatever she received, in one way or another. She was well aware that everything in this world had a price.

Or she believed it did, but Jon had taught her otherwise. In all honesty, she had been waiting for something to go horribly wrong since he came into her life. For some fatal flaw besides his own selflessness and insecurities. Yet, there were none and for awhile she was starting to believe he was a dream that had manifested itself into her grim reality. A fantasy she had deluded herself into believing but here they were, and nothing he had done and probably ever would do could alter her feelings for him.

"Daenerys are you sure about this?"

She smiled, a maddening sight in the light of the moon and nodded eagerly. She moved to kiss him hard, the familiar feel of Jon's lips grounding her in her hazy state of excitement and seemingly endless infatuation. When she pulled away, the smile found its way back to her lips.

"I suggested it. I planned it. I've never been more sure of anything in my life. There's a canoe near the bayou a few miles from here. Old and abandoned but still, it works. Irri assured me that, I can meet you at the lake two hours before noon and we can sail up the river to town. Where Gendry and Arya stay, I've made few visits and secured an old truck from him. It's hiding out in the garage he works in, we can hit the road by mid-day and-"

"How long have you been planning this Storm?"

She rolled her eyes, she hated when he called her that. Well, hate was a strong word but he did it a lot and always with that teasing tone in his voice. He could be quite annoying when he wanted to be.

"Long enough to gain the courage to ask you." She told him, voice much softer than she intended. He brushed a section of her hair out of her face as the words left her mouth, gaze not faltering from her and she resisted the urge to shudder at his touch.

They stayed silent, allowing the crickets to fill the noise where conversation once was.

There was only one thing she hated about Jon Snow, how hard he was to read.

"Dany I-" He began after a beat of silence that lasted much too long.

"We could go to Mereen, I’ve fallen in love with the idea of being a teacher and your writing will have a fighting chance there. The value art so much on the island. You could work for a publication or maybe publish a few poems in a local newspaper and-"

"Dany I-" He started again but she wasn't sure she was ready for his answer, for the shoe to drop when he said no and inevitable logic forced itself back into her mind.

"-we could get a little house on the outskirts of town. I visited there once, made a friend of one of the locals, Missandei. We send letters every now and then, I'm sure she and her husband, Grey won't mind helping us out when we get there-"

"Dany I-" Not yet, she wasn't ready to stop dreaming yet.

"Or maybe you don't have to publish anything. You're good with your hands, I'm sure you could make it as handyman or construction worker. There bound to have a garage or two down there and I saw the way you fixed Rhae’s truck so y-"

"Daenerys." The finality in his tone making her go silent.

Rambling was a nervous habit that she had only recently discovered existed when she was in his presence. She had also learned that whenever he said her full name, it was because she was doing it and he could barely get a word in.

"Sorry."

Her gaze flickered down to her hands, a blush of embarrassment crept its way into her, flushing her cheeks as it did.

His hand slipped under her chin, pulling her back to face him. She could never hide from him and she had never really wanted to. His eyes always had this way of studying her and reading all her pages like she was an open book. Jon Snow had made it a point to memorize each and every one of them.

"I love you."

Her breath caught in her throat, a violent flutter surged through her chest at she registered his words. Warmth filled her being at the proclamation. Jon Snow loved her. Subconsciously she had always been somewhat aware of that but now, hearing it from his lips. Having the confirmation from him was better than any assumption her mind could've made.

She closed the gap between them, lips grasping at his feverishly. A smile forming on her's as she did, she pushed him back down so that they could once again lye against the soft silk of sheets.

"I love you" she murmured against his lips losing herself in his touch. In his love, in his essence. In him.

Jon wrapped his arms around her torso, kissing her as slow as either of them could handle. Her hips found their way on top of his for the fourth time that night, straddling him like she had done so much before. It felt like second nature at this point. She moved to sit up but Jon held her lower back down gently.

"Just, stay right here. I need you close."

Daenerys felt her heart swell at his words before nodding slowly, kissing him as she moved against him. She winced, still sore from the affections they shared before.

"It’s alright love, it's alright." He mumbled, before grasping the back of her neck gently and flipping them over so her back was pressed against her canopy bed.

Her hands found his chest, lying flat against it and instinctively, Jon pulled away.

"Did I hurt you? Is there something wrong?" The concern in his voice made her eyes water, no one had ever cared for her livelihood the way he did. No one had ever taken her well being into consideration the way he did. Like she was his first and only priority and the thought that she might actually be sent a stray tear flowing down her cheek.

"Daenerys I didn-"

"No, no. You didn't do anything I just, I just wanted to say-" she paused, breathing in deeply. Reveling in the pressure of his thumb against the side of her face, in the concern and undeniable love in his grey eyes. She loved him, she loved him so much it hurt.

"I wanted to tell you to be gentle, just go slow alright." She whispered, smiling a little as the breath of relief left his body.

He pressed a kiss to her lips before taking the leap, entering her slowly. She gasped at the feeling of him bare and deep within her.

She should have been used to it by now but being with Jon Snow was not something you simply got used to. It was something you cherished, and tried desperately to hold onto for as long as possible.

Jon Snow didn't just sleep with a woman to sleep with her. He didn't just enter her for the common goal of mutual pleasure, it was never just sex with a man like him. He worshiped her and all that she was. He poured his heart and soul into giving you the love physically that he couldn't show verbally. He said everything he could never say with his actions, with his lips against her skin and his hands that roamed her body and every muscle in his being when he made love to her.

And that was simply not something Daenerys could ever get used to, having all that affection and love poured into her all at once. It was all consuming, but in the best way possible.

And as he kissed her like their lives depended on it and touched her, making her feel the things that only he could, her mind wandered to the future. To the two of them, like this every night. Until she breathed her last breath.

It’s what she wanted, if the universe would allow her to take it. She would, and she would never look back.

When the early morning sunrise settled in, Daenerys smiled lazily at her lover. Kissing him gently before pushing him softly out of her room. They'd meet in an hour and a half by the lake near her house, enough time for her to pack all she needed and say her goodbyes on paper so her mother wouldn't worry too much.

When the time came, she left quietly. Already hearing the early stirrings of her brother Viserys and Doreah next door.

She walked at first, maintaining what little composure she could, ignoring her body's urge to limp because of last night. She smiled at the thought, it was a miracle her legs hadn't given out on her yet.

She wore a simple white dress, the same one she wore on the day she had first laid eyes on him. Her haired pinned up in a rather messy ponytail with the flats her mother bought her for her birthday. Looking herself in the mirror she smiled, it was like seeing a different person than the one who had arrived early this summer. Someone she didn't recognize and wasn't sure how she'd became them but she liked it, she loved it. She had never been this light and happy before.

The image of Jon smiling up at her as he worked on picking out their weeds flashed through her mind and her stomach fluttered.

She walked a little faster, knowing he'd be there waiting for in all his glory to take her away from this life she had been forced to exist in for so long.

And before she knew it she was running through the flower fields behind her family's estate towards the lake. Ignoring the ache between her thighs as she did so.

She smiled at the sight of the blue water, glimmering under the sunlight.

When she stopped, her gaze flitted around for him. The familiar sight of his unruly black hair or grey eyes staring right back at her when she finally saw him.

But she didn't see either of those things because he wasn't there. 

A sinking feeling filled her stomach, panic rising in her chest.

What if he didn't show up?

No, that's a stupid thought. He loved her, Jon wouldn't abandon someone he loved. 

He probably just ran into some trouble along the way. Daenerys took in a shaky breath, ignoring the sick feeling in her stomach that grew and grew with each passing moment. She placed her suitcase on the ground and sat on top of it. Running a finger across the dragon ring that lied on her pointer finger.

She'd wait, he'd be here in a few minutes. She knew it.

Or she thought she did.

She sat there, for what felt like hours. Baking under the southern heat until her skin was too hot to stand it. Waiting and waiting for someone that she knew deep down wasn't coming. She knew it the moment she got there and he was nowhere to be found. Jon was never one to be late but she refused to admit it to herself. She wanted to believe that it was real, that it wasn't just a dream she created in her mind. That she made it out to be exactly what it was and not more.

He wasn't coming.

He left her.

When the realization finally sunk into her being, her throat burned and tightened. Warm hot tears burned behind her eyes as she sat un-moving.

He wasn't coming.

He left her.

He lied.

He didn't love her.

"Daenerys honey." Her mother's voice snapped her from her thoughts. She blinked quickly, wiping away a few stray tears quickly as she looked up at her. The mother she planned to never see again. She had been here for hours, waiting for him.

"Oh there you are, your father has been looking for your for-are you alright sweetie?"

Daenerys looked at her and forced a smile on her lips, ignoring the urge to break down and scream. Ignoring the empty feeling making itself comfortable within her chest. Ignoring the inevitable heartbreak that would set in fully within a few minutes. Her mother must not have gotten the letter, she wouldn't be asking this question if she had.

"Yes ma'am, I got up early and packed just so I could I take it all in I suppose. I-uh-I'm really gonna miss it that's all." She told her mother, wiping another warm tear that had escaped from its place behind her eyes. She supposed she couldn't keep it all inside, it was hard to hide from Jon Snow. Even harder to hide the effects he left on her.

Her mother smiled warily, but didn't question her tears. Instead she reached a hand out for her daughter to take.

"Maybe the boys will get time off again next summer around the same time and we’ll all be able to return as a family again.” Daenerys wanted to laugh bitterly at her mother’s words. It was never going to happen and they both knew it.

“Your father's waiting. It's time for us to go my love, are you ready?" She asked, concerned laced in her tone. Daenerys ignored it, rising to her feet instead.

"Yes ma'am, I have been for awhile now."

She took her mother's hand and together they made their way through the flower fields and back to her family's estate. The scenery no longer felt romantic and ethereal as it had moments before.

It felt like as it was, a field of plants that would fade away to grey by the time winter came.

Just as she felt herself fading now.

She supposed dreams were too good to be true after all.  



	2. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys returns to Winterfell and Jon sees her for the first time in years.

_[Without You Pt. 2 Cover Photo](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161441232@N05/46130435555/in/dateposted-public/) _

**_Dany_ **

The northern heat seeped into her porcelain skin for the first time in so long as she stepped out of her black town car. Daenerys breathed in the cleaner, fresher air of Winterfell, admiring the light as it shone down on her family’s forgotten estate. It had been five years since she’d last been here, five years filled with dutiful predicaments and overwhelming loss.

Five of the most precious years of her life, spent with the person she loved more than anything in the world and the person she was obligated to stand by for the rest of her life.

Well, who she was supposed to stand by for the rest of her life. That is until two years ago when her husband, Drogo Khal, had died in a war her family had funded ironically. Another war she didn’t believe in and another war that could’ve been avoided. This time however the war had taken much more than what it had given. She lost both her brothers, Rhaegar and Viserys. One died an honorable death and the other, like a coward.

Rhaegar died as lieutenant of his platoon and he had saved the lives of dozens when he sacrificed himself to the enemy so they could escape. His body was shipped home where he was given a grand funeral and a purple heart for the family’s trouble. Daenerys can name the times in her life where she cried the way she did on that day, on one hand. Only one of them though, would ever compare to her eldest brother’s death.

Viserys on the other hand was a cruel vile man who died in a cruel vile way. He had abandoned his fleet, gone a-wall to hide amongst commoners within King’s Landing. It was stupid, Targaryens were not easy to miss. Especially by the enemy, he was captured and tortured until he revealed everything he knew only to die anyway. His was sent back to them ashes.

There was no funeral.

After what Viserys revealed, her father was sent to prison for the various inhumane crimes he committed. Daenerys couldn’t pretend she was surprised, she knew what her father was and what he was capable of. His employees within the family corporation had called him the Mad King for a reason. She knew her father earned his name.

He was supposed to have spent four lifetimes in there before ever seeing the light of day again. Her mother, her poor, sweet mother received the worst of it. Constant media backlash, harassment and belittlement not to mention her own self torment. It was too much and on the first anniversary of Rhaegar’s death, Daenerys found her hanging from the ceiling fan of her bedroom.

Her father had been shivved in his cell a week later. She had burned their ashes and held a small intimate service for her mother, with a few family friends. Only the people who meant the most to her was present, the ones living that is. She didn’t give her father a service. Two days later, she scattered her mother’s ashes in her favorite spot in the forest behind their family home.

Her father was resting in their fireplace.

She figured she’d spare her mother the burden of spending eternity with him when she went to rest.

Dany stared up at the chipped white paint of the house and smiled to herself, heart swelling as memories swirled around her mind. She remember playing with Rhaegar in the gardens, he was much too old to entertain her childhood folly but he did anyway. That’s just who he was. A good man. Even if he had children of his own who were older than her at the time, he always found a way to keep her dreams alive.

She could feel the tears burning behind her eyes but she shook them away. She still had family, a piece of her brother who lived on in her nephew and niece.

She was thankful for Rhaenys and Aegon, they had taken over Targaryen Industries and they were transforming it into something better. Slowly moving out of weaponry and into energy and she was grateful for it. She hoped one day her son would grow up in a world where being a Targaryen wasn’t immediately associated with violence and pain. Instead maybe, hope and light.

Khal Incorporated was her’s now, just until her son reached of age of course, but she was going to make something better of it. After months of stress filled board meetings and maintaining appearances for the public, she needed to get away. Get her and her son out of the city for awhile, just for some fresh air and the chance for Daenerys to just...breathe.

She needed to breathe and this, this was the last place she remembered being able to do it so clearly. So easily.

She liked to imagine that the feeling of ease didn’t just come from _him_. Winterfell was peace, it was solace.

She shouldn’t have been here.

The wind blew past, soothing her skin and Daenerys, just for a brief second, she felt the freedom she hadn’t felt in years.

She should’ve sold the house like her financial advisor, Varys, suggested. Yet here she was, taking time off work for the first time since Drogo died to return to a place she had forced herself not to remember. When she remembered, she hurt.

And too many memories of him never left her in a good place.

Why hadn’t he just left her earlier? Why hadn’t he just told her the truth about his emotions instead of letting her believe that they could’ve had a f-no.

This, this is not about him. This is not about her foolish hopes and desires as a young naive teenage girl.

This is about saying goodbye to manifestations of her past. All the good things that thrived here, they’re dead now. She was the last one, the last of her mother’s children and the thought unsettled her soul.

Her brothers, her father, her mother and whatever relationship they had, has been dead longer than any of her family.

She moved forward, stopping once she reached the walkway, the sun reflecting against the silver of hair and she smiled to herself. She missed the warmth of the northern sun, the inspiration it filled in her. It was at its highest point and the memory of sitting on the porch, painting the landscape flashed through her mind and she smiled. It had been so long since she painted.

Memories of the warm wooden brush in her hand as she flicked her wrist, creating images of the world she envisioned flashed through her mind. She could almost feel the wet paint in her fingertips and then the memory shifted. He crept up behind her, hands sweeping her long blonde locks to the side and gently he kissed the exposed skin of her shoulder.

She shuddered at the memory, forcing it away as her left hand instinctively reached up and tracing over her right shoulder.

Her hair was shorter now she didn’t paint, not anymore.

“Mommy, mommy, I wanna go inside?” A tiny body collided with her side and she let out a mix between a laugh and a grunt. Her left hand left her shoulder and settled on his back as he looked up at her.

She looked down at the raven haired boy, big beautiful eyes like his father’s staring right back at her, pure joy and childlike wonder laced in them. Daenerys’s heart swelled at the sight.

“Of course my love, of course.”

**_Jon_ **

“Jon, harder!”

He sighed, listening to Gendry’s demands as he turned the key again and push harder on the gas. Still, nothing. The engine was shit and they both knew it.

Jon climbed from the front seat of the Pontiac Torpedo, examining its fresh black paint job. They could’ve done the job on a car that was actually working but Gendry wouldn’t have it. From the new, fresh, yellow embroidery on the seats to the rims he ordered from the Red Keep. This car had become a second child to Gendry.

They had been working on rebuilding the engine for the past few weeks but nothing had come from it. It was hopeless at this point. The car was an old junker Gendry’s shitty father, Robert, had left him before he died. It was the only thing that man had ever given him but it meant the world to his best friend for some reason. Jon didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was no use, a lost cause.

Fixing it up would cost the garage more money than scrapping it for parts could give them but only Jon seemed to acknowledge it.

“Shit, I thoug-” His brother in law began as he approached him, only to be interrupted.

“Gendry!”

They both turned their heads as Arya waltzed in from the house, baby Eddie in her hands.

“I know y’all are working but he’s fussing again and I can’t get him to calm down. You gotta do your thing.” She huffed out as her husband wiped his grease stained hands on an old towel from the house. He took Eddie from her arms when he was done and rocked the crying six month old in his arms. He swayed him back and forth then side to side while shushing the little boy.

Arya stood next to him, rubbing a reassuring hand on Eddie’s backs and smiling a little as Gendry soothed their infant.

Warmth filled throughout Jon’s chest as he watched the display of paternal affection in front of him. Gendry was a good man and even better father and husband to Arya and Eddie, Jon was glad they had each other. He hadn’t had someone like that since-in a long time.

The warmth morphed into envy and regret, he hated himself for feeling it.

He was the only one of his siblings to not be settled down now but that was for the best he figured.

It still baffled him how Arya became a mother before he did a father. The little girl who he used to wrestle with in the mud with now had her own kid to watch do that like Ned had watched them. She had never seemed like the motherly type before but after these few months, Jon couldn’t see her any other way. She was still his little sister but she was somebody’s momma now which perplexed him at first. Seeing her a mother was a hard thing to do, he expected her to change completely like Sansa had when she and Podrick had the twins.

It didn’t. Despite being a mother, it never seemed to consume her. She still felt like Arya, his pushy little sister, but with her own pushy little baby now.

He stared at little Eddie and smiled, he had always wanted kids. Always wanted a beautiful family to call his own but he had never seemed to have found the right person, or he had and it just wasn’t meant to be. Anyone else would blame that on the circumstance but Jon knew what he choose to do. He choose the easy way out, the cowardly way for the first time in his life.

Not a day goes by that he doesn’t regret it.

His gaze flickered from his nephew and up to the wall where the clock hung.

Shit.

“We gotta go Gendry, we still meeting Pod and Theon in town to get fitted for our suits.” Jon reminded him as Arya groaned at the mention.

“Don’t remind me. Margarey and Sansa haven’t shut up about this wedding since Theon proposed.”

Gendry laughed at that, only he would find his wife’s cynicality amusing. He moved to hand little Eddie, who’s restlessness had stopped, back to his mother. Jon couldn’t help the grin that showed itself at the sight.

“Don’t let Osha hear you say that?” Gendry warned and all she did was roll her eyes.

“She won’t care, she looks like she wants shoot herself in the forehead everytime they bring up color palettes and bridesmaids dresses, and she’s the one getting married. “ Arya told him, hoisting her son onto her side before grabbing Gendry by the shirt and bring him down to meet his lips with her own.

Jon looked away, their affection was still not something he took pleasure in being in the presence of.

“Be home by six okay. I still got fencing lessons to teach.” She told him and Gendry nodded.

“Anything for you milady.” She rolled her eyes a second time before walking away and disappearing back into the house.

They took Jon’s truck into town, he got it last year after Ned...after he passed. A little something from his father to remember him bye, that’s what Catelyn told him when she reluctantly handed him the keys. It was the only thing he had left of him and Jon cherished it with his life. So, he couldn’t quite judge Gendry for doing the same with that old Pontiac.

The drive into town was short and before they knew it they were parked outside of Tyrion’s Tailors.

“Let’s get this over with shall we?” Gendry muttered as as climbed out the passenger seat. Jon laughed, moving to grasp the door handle on his side, but his breath caught in his throat as his gaze wandered.

His heartbeat quickened and his mouth went dry. He felt his palms sweating and throat tightening at the sight in front of him.

It wasn’t possible, she should’ve been in Essos, not Winterfell. What was she doing back?

Jon took her in, eyes tracing over the woman he hadn’t seen in five years. She had cut her hair, long platinum waves were gone, replaced with a cut to fit the style of the decade. A short little bob that he had never pictured her with till now, it suited her. Then again, most things did. She wore white, a dress that hugged her curves in all the right ways and stopped just above her knees. Stocking took its place and then sensible white heels after them. A white sweater covered her arms and one of those church hats that Jon found ridiculous on her head.

Big and ostentatious and yet somehow, she made it seem graceful and beautiful. Timeless even.

She had learned to look the part, the Targaryen. He had only real seen the side of her the first few times they met before she stopped being Miss Targaryen and just, Dany.

Beautiful, sweet Dany.

She hadn’t aged a day, she seemed younger somehow. She practically glowed like an angel underneath the sun of Winterfell.

She stood in front of a black town car, talking to a man in a suit who Jon assumed was her driver. She sure had enough money to have one.

He could’ve been more than that but Jon shoved the thought down his brain. Now wasn’t the time to feel jealousy over a woman he hadn’t spoken a word to in years.

He couldn’t believe it had truly been that long. Images of her smile, so close and tangible rang through his mind like it could’ve been yesterday.

She said something but Jon was too far away to make it out and when she turned to his direction finally, his stomach dropped.

He hadn’t seen her face in so long.

Still so delicate, still so strong. Just as he remembered.

She was still the Dany that he knew, even if she painted her lips red now and carried herself like stone. Yet, there was a coldness, a hardness to her that was new. He wondered if he had taken part in that manifesting in her. In that detached demeanor.

She breathed in deeply and Jon founding himself finding it nearly impossible to do the same. She was everything he had ever wanted sometime ago and now, she was his nothing and he was her’s.

What he was not prepared for whatsoever was the little boy who came bounding out of the car next. She turned away from him and towards the child and her face lit up, like a momma he truly loved her son. At least, that’s what Jon always imagined that to look like.

He couldn’t have been much older than four or five and he had long shaggy black hair that looked like it needed a cut.

Jon could barely make out what his face looked like as he ran towards her. She bent down to pick him up so she could hold him in her arms.

His chest tightened as he watched her press sweet quick kisses all across his face.

He thought she married Drogo Khal, why was her child so pale? Why was his hair so black and curly?

Like his own.

The question that began to form made his body go numb. Was she pregnant when he left her? Was that his chi-

“Jon! Get out of the car!’ Gendry called out, banging on the door and interrupting his thought process.

He looked over at him, mind hazy as he remembered exactly where he was. He nodded at before looking over again only to see the two of them disappearing into Tormund’s Ice Cream Parlor, The Night Cream.

“Jon, come on! You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He had. A ghost from his past that is. A ghost he never thought that he could ever see again.

Hesitantly Jon reached for the door handle once more and climbed out. Gendry clapped his hands on his shoulders once he made his way round to him, Jon’s gaze flickering to the ice cream parlor every few seconds. His best friend all but shoved him inside the suit shop when he felt he was moving to slow.

That couldn’t have been his son. It couldn’t have been.

If she were pregnant, she would’ve told him, right? She would’ve. He would’ve known, he’d-he’d have to. He never would’ve listened to her mother or his father or Catelyn if he would’ve known. He would’ve met her and ran away like she wanted, he never would’ve let any of them get into his head if he knew they were going to have a family together.

Jon had never seen Drogo before news of his death made the papers but he knew of the brown skinned people of Essos. He knew of their signature straight black hair and even darker eyes. Maybe that boy had been an exception because of Dany. Maybe he was being irrational jumping to conclusions like this. Yeah, that was it. It had to be.

“Alright boys-” Theon said, interrupting his thought process,”it’s time to get started.”

But Jon, had stopped listening. He just stared out the wide glass windows of the establishment over to Tormund’s across the street. That boy had curls in his hair, Jon’s thick, soft unruly black curls a top his little head and his skin was so pale. Pale like his.

The people of Essos were not known to have ivory skin, all, if not most, had a wide range of ebony complexions like Daenerys told him all those years ago when she spoke of it. 

The Dothraki were no exception and if that boy...if that boy had skin so pale there was no way that he could’ve been of Dothraki heritage. No way.

Had she taken another lover after him? The thought made his muscles tense, imagining her with someone else had never settled well with him. He highly doubted it ever will.

He watched as she and the child whose hand she held in her own walk out of the shop.

He couldn’t have been older than four or five and the last time he’d seen her was five years ago. The timing was perfect. Was that boy...? Could he be.?

Someone called his name in the distance or maybe they were close by but Jon wasn’t hearing them. He was already moving, pushing past the likes of Podrick and Theon and out the door. He shoved himself outside and he looked onwards, frozen as both Daenerys and her son-his son, climbed into the town car.

Anguish seeped into his soul.

That was his son, he knew it.

He had a son that he didn’t know about.

He had a son. That was his blood, his baby. He had missed so much, his first words, his first steps, his birth! He had missed all of it. Every important first in that boy’s life, he wasn’t around for.

Warm tears burned in the back of Jon’s grey eyes as his mind raced a mile a minute. Each thought causing more pain than the last.

He couldn’t stop thinking it, that that was his son. The sound of the town car door slamming brought him back to earth and Jon took off sprinting in its direction.

The engine started and Jon could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears as the car sputtered off. He didn’t stop running, reaching for it. His hands graced the trunk for a short moment, making a loud thump against the smooth metal just before it was out of reach. But Daenerys, she had looked back at the sound and Jon stopped. He stopped as her violet gaze met his grey ones.

An unreadable emotion in her eyes. Almost like she was in pain, like he pained her.

Jon couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t feel anything as he watched and her little boy, _his little boy,_ speed away.

Everything, everything he felt for her, everything, all of it came rushing back in the small second, all in an instant. Every memory the two of them, every kiss, every touch, every word rushed through his mind as her ocean green eyes pierced his own as the distance between the two of them grew further and further.

Not once did either of them look away, not even when she turned the corner and disappeared down the road.

Strong hands clasped against his back and Jon’s gaze finally slipped from her and to the impact. His brother stared back at him, expression shifting from irritation to concern once he saw his expression.

“You alright Jon?” Robb asked quietly, as if the very question might break him.

No, he wasn’t alright! He was anything but alright. The woman he was once hopelessly in love with, the woman who he still might be in love with just showed up in his life with a child that could very much be his own. He wasn’t alright.

Stray tears spilled from his eyes as he tried to form words that just weren’t coming. They wouldn’t force themselves from his lips, not even a weak sound or a nod of reassurance. Nothing.

He just stood there, feeling weaker than ever as Robb stared at him. There wasn’t an answer he could give him that would make him feel better. His throat felt hot and tight and tears were beginning to cloud his vision all at once. As much as he wanted to tell him the truth, he couldn’t. How could he? He was the one who left, he was the one who walked away, not her.

He felt his heart shattering all over again at the memory and the realization of what he walked away from.

He most likely had a son, a son he hadn’t been there for. A son he never knew existed.

A bastard, just like him.

A suffocating anguish spilled throughout his chest and whatever emotions he had forced down after all this time were going to erupt out of him. Like a volcano that was going to lay waste to the small amount of composure he had maintained over the years. He was going to break, he knew it. Everything that he had been holding in for so long, it was going to consume him.

He couldn’t force those emotions away forever and he was a fool to think he could. He had only been pretending to have his shit together but he couldn’t pretend any longer. Not when she was here, not when she could look at him only once and render him to pieces. There was no hiding from someone like Daenerys Targaryen, at least for him. He wasn’t sure he had never known how to hide from her and he still wasn’t sure if he ever truly wanted to.

Jon was not alright and he’s not sure he has been since she left Winterfell five years ago. He wasn’t sure if he ever would be again after this. Jon could feel a storm brewing within him.

Suddenly, a question that shook his very being crossed his mind as he stared after the road she had just been on.

What had happened to him since she left? What had mattered since she left? What had he done? What had he amounted to? What had he been without her?

Nothing.

He had been nothing.


	3. Is he my son?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany reunites herself with Dragonstone Manor, her past begins to show itself again in more ways than one.

Daenerys turned away from the window, her heart felt trapped in her lungs as their car traveled further and further away from the man she once loved. Tears brimmed her eyes as she tried to steady her breathing. 

It was him. It was really him. 

And he was so beautiful. 

He had grown from the adolescent boy she had come to love in her teen years. A man now took his place, a man with broad shoulders and a beard that covered the bottom half of his face. His hair was shorter now, he must’ve cut it. It suited him, like most things. There was a time when running her delicate fingers through his unruly curls comforted her more than anything else this world had to offer. 

That time was long gone.

The man she saw today brought her no comfort, brought her no calm. She couldn’t even describe the emotions that roared deep inside her at the sight of him. She hadn’t let herself loom over his memory for longer than her heart could stand it since she left this place. The only times she had slipped up were during her son’s birth. She wished he was there, he wouldn’t have let her be alone. He would’ve held her hand and coaxed her through it. In welcoming their baby boy into the world. . 

That’s what she’d like to believe he would’ve done but in truth, she had no idea. He left her once, the same sweet boy she would’ve never thought could hurt her did. She wasn’t sure she had known him during their short time together. He had never responded to her letters. Not once. 

When she remembered how alone he left her she knew better than to allow herself to imagine a man that was too good to be true. So after Rhae’s first birthday, no matter how her son grew to look like him. No matter the good fortune or tragedy that played out within her life, she never allowed herself to fall into the trap of their memories. Remembering him was too painful and she already had a lifetime of pain to deal with without Jon Snow showing his face in her mind. 

But now, she couldn’t force herself to push the images of the past away. Not when he stood there, staring right at her with those eyes. Those damn eyes, the one thing that had never faltered over the years. Not when he ran after her until he couldn’t anymore. The emotion that stirred within them, the hurt, the anger, the shock and relief. The love… 

Did he still love her? 

No, that wasn’t-she refused to be concerned with what he felt. Not any longer. She was here, not to get caught up in the follies of her broken teenage heart but to handle the affairs of her family’s estate.

He seemed so surprised to see her with him. Rhaegar. As if he was completely ignorant to the knowledge of her child. He shouldn’t have been. 

She had written to him for months in secret, details of her pregnancy and all the hope she held for their son. That he’d grow to have Jon’s kindness, hopefully his hair so he wouldn’t have the Targaryen features plaguing his existence. Their family’s greatness was just as defining as their madness and eventually their fall. 

She wondered if he worked with Benjen now. He spent so much of his free time in Benjen’s shop when they were younger, it seemed almost natural to assume he would find a career doing what he loved. She wondered if he still liked chocolate ice cream, if he was still close to his younger sister, Arya. She wondered if he had made any plans to pursue his dreams of writing. She wondered if he still thought of her. She wondered too much for a man who had left her when she wanted and needed him most. 

Daenerys forced those thoughts away as they neared the manor. It was run down, her father had abandoned the maintenance years ago and now their summer vacation home that once shined in the days of her youth was falling apart. The pristine white walls and columns had turned grey. Vines snaked around its columns and up the outer walls. 

It was left hollow and broken. A perfect representative of the family that once dwelled within it. 

Fleeting memories of her eldest brother, Rhaegar chasing her through the gardens flashed in her mind. Of Viserys critiquing her ensembles and maintaining the quality of his own. Of she and her mother sitting on the porch, laughing and conversing over tea. Of her fathers’ half smiles as he looked out onto the water. 

This place was the closest her family had ever had to a home, to happiness and contentment. The Red Keep back in King’s Landing was more of a cage than a home. She had ordered its destruction after sorting through the remnants of it for weeks on end. Now she would be doing the same here, avoiding town as much as she could knowing he was still here. 

She didn’t know what she had expected. She was grown now, a woman who had reached maturity of both the body and mind. Why did she still feel like a young girl under his unrelenting gaze? As if no time had passed at all. Her skin had reddened and she wished she could blame it on the northron heat but in truth, she knew it was because of him. 

Rhae laughed beside her, pulling her attention away from her own thoughts and back to her son who laid beside her. Happily he lapped at the cool chocolate that slowly began to seep from the cone and onto his fingers. She smiled at him, moving to run a hand through his beautiful black curls. 

He was born a fortnight after her brother's passing. Rhae had supported her through her pregnancy. He had helped orchestrate her union with Drogo Khal, a prominent Essoian man who was impatient for his bride. The affair was quick, took place within a week of her return to Westeros. Drogo never asked questions. He was a good father to her son, even if he was not a good husband to her. 

  
Dany moved to trace over her wrist, where a bruise long healed once lied. He was gone now, like the rest of her family. Leaving her with scars and wealth. 

“We have arrived milady.” 

Daenerys snapped out of her thoughts and nodded, thanking Rakharo as he moved around to open her car door and help both her and Rhae out of their seats. 

She moved with an eerie slowness as she guided her son up the steps. She ignored the twinge in her heart as they passed the rosebed, where Jon once sat yanking weeds from the ground and looking up at her as if she had hung the stars in the sky. 

This place held so much for her, she could feel old wounds begin to leak the closer she got to the front steps. So much time had passed...so much had changed and yet the emotion remained. 

“Mommy! Mommy!” Daenerys tore herself away from the reminiscing and back to her little one. 

“I got chocwate on my shirt.” He told her, pointing at the stain and Dany laughed to herself. Her precious, messy little angel.

“Well, we’ll just have to get you cleaned up now won’t we?” Rhae nodded in agreement. Dany motioned for Rokahraro to join them before handing him her untouched vanilla ice cream cup and moving to walk up the porch steps and towards the front door. Unlocking it and opening herself up to a whirlwind of memories she had long buried. 

  
  


~WY~

The night had come, falling over Winterfell like an ocean wave. Daenerys had spent the majority of the day cleaning up the remains of a place she once called home. She suppressed every stray thought and memory that dared to flash in her mind. Yet no matter how hard she forced herself to ignore all that whirled inside her, she couldn’t force away the feelings that stirred. Walking these halls, she felt like a ghost reliving a past life. 

The feeling of his laugh sounded around her. His laugh, his touch, the crinkles of his eyes when he smiled. 

All of it felt warm and suffocating like a wool blanket. 

She had held it together as she ripped sheets from the furniture and cooked Rhae a simple meal of chicken and potatoes. She held it together and put things back in place, stared at the painting she, her brother and her mother had carefully selected at a local market not too far from here. As she stared at the wooden floors Jon had waltzed her around. 

She would hold it together until she would no longer have to. Daenerys stood over Rhae as he lied in her eldest brother’s former room. More teddy bears than Rhaegar liked but it was perfect for her angel.    
  


“Tell me a story. Please momma!” He begged as she worked to tuck him in. 

“What kind of story baby?” 

“Tell me about the dwagons! Of Old Valywia!” Dany laughed at his words, her father had scolded her for not curbing her son’s habit of sucking on his thumb or his lisp while he was beginning to talk but she had waved them away. He would grow out of it in due time. 

“Let’s see.” She said, moving to sit beside him. Rhae melted into her touch and Dany’s heart warmed. 

“Would you like to hear of the great Aegon Targaryen and hi-” 

“The wolf pwince and dwagon pwincess.” Dany winced at his words. She had made up that story years ago when he was a babe. Back when she still wrote his father and held hope for their future. Her son had fallen in love with the tale that never truly was. Even when her hope dwindled, his love for the story never had. 

Despite the anguish that arose within her as the image of his grey stare splintered through her being, she took a deep breath and kissed his forehead. 

“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess with the blood of dragons in her veins.” She began, gently stroking his soft curls in an effort to lull him to sleep. 

“She spent her life locked away in the highest of towers. Her family had trapped her there, never telling her the secret of flight in an effort to hold her there for as long as they possibly could. But the dragon princess longed for freedom.” 

Rhae calmed in her embrace as Daenerys ignored the burn in the back of her throat. 

“Until one fateful night, the princess looked beyond her tower. Venturing to the window where she saw him. A wolf with fur whiter than snow staring at her with eyes as bright and grey as the moon.” 

Images of Jon looking to her through the glass windows of this home filled her and she struggled to shake away the memory. She could never hide under his gaze, not even the memory of it. 

“The princess spent her days thinking of the wolf. Longing to leave her cage and know the secrets of his bright grey eyes. He came to her every night until one day, on the new moon, the grey eyes of a wolf was replaced with that of a man. He stood before her, a completely different creature but his eyes had never changed, bright and beautiful.” 

They weren’t. Not today. They had dulled with time and she wondered what had eroded at his soul to leave him that way. It wasn’t any of her concern anymore. Still, her heart lurched at the thought of life taking its toll on him like it had her. 

“The wolf man smiled at her and from where she stood, hidden in the heavens, she could see his crown of winter roses interwoven in the soft tresses of his hair. As black as night. He was beautiful, the most beautiful being she had ever seen. He motioned for her to leap into him. To rid herself of her prison and to fly. To be free.” 

Rhae’s body began to sag against her, his breathing slowed. Still, she told on. 

“She was too scared the first night. She hadn’t been told the secret of flight, she wasn’t sure if her wings would catch her once she fell. But the longer he came, the more he assured her and the more she had faith that she wouldn’t have to worry about her wings catching her. The wolf prince would do so.” 

She stroked the head of her son as he slept, finally allowing the tears to drip down her face. 

“One day, the dragon princess stood atop the window and leaped. Allowing herself to fall with the hope that she would be caught. Instead she was met with the cold ground and the sound of her wings cracking against the concrete. No longer a beautiful princess, but a broken girl with wings to match.” 

As she finished, she could hear his soft snores beside her and she forced herself out of the trance the story had placed her in. She had never told him that ending, every time she had given something blissful to look forward to. Happiness at the end of the rainbow. Something far from the truth. Cautiously, Daenerys slipped from her son’s grip. Standing to her full height before turning to the light and shutting it off. 

Wearily, she slipped from his room. Closing the door softly as she did. Rokaharo had left earlier, leaving the two of them alone in the manor to settle in. Daenerys felt herself slump against his door, trying to steady her breathing and calm her nerves. 

She had to regroup. Find her composure. She had managed to maintain it for years and yet being in this town made it more difficult than it ever had been. Shakily, she stood on her own two feet and wandered through the halls. 

It felt like ghosts were all around her, draining her of energy she had long struggled to hold onto. She could hear Viserys' incessant nagging, see the crease in Rhaegar’s forehead as he brooded. Feel her mother’s laughter and her father’s stern silence. 

She could feel them all, everyone she had lost. 

The memories she shoved down ran through like the wind. 

And she could feel him. His presence. His kiss, his touch, his all consuming love. She could feel it and it tore away at her. He was here. Less than a few miles away from her, living and breathing without her. She had always known that but seeing it today, having it register was a new kind of pain. Something deep and endless filled her and Dany could feel the weight of all she had lost begin to eat away at her. 

Warm wetness spilled from her eyes like a rainfall as she drifted. Looking to balance herself as anguish seeped into her soul. Dany grasped the wall, losing all the strength she had mustered over the years. 

It hurt. Everything hurt. It had hurt for so long. She had learned to numb herself but that wasn’t enough now. They wouldn’t stay buried forever no matter how hard she wanted them too. She could feel herself being tipped over the edge, ready to fall in all she had denied for years. Her grief, her pain, her anger, her loneliness...the sea of emotion she had managed to keep at bay for so long. The dam she had built was cracking. She was losing herself, she could feel it. 

A loud knock sounded at the door, pulling her away from the ledge. Dany peered around, she was in the kitchen. She didn’t remember the travel from Rhae’s room to here but she didn’t dwell. Daenerys wiped her tears and forced herself to breathe, just breathe, before moving towards the front door.    
  
She turned the knob, ignoring the shaking in her hand as she laid eyes on her visitor. 

“Is he mine? Is he my son Dany?” 

She stood there, frozen in place as she looked up at him. His tanned skin, soft and now short curls. His clothes were damp, wet from the rain she hadn’t realized had started but was now clearly visible outside of the porch coverage. Her chest stirred as she looked at him, really looked at him. He didn’t feel real, before when he chased after her it was clear to read him and now, she didn’t know what he was thinking? Or why he decided to show himself after so long. 

“Jon.” She breathed out. 

“Is he? Is he my son Dany?! .” He asked slower, ire clear in his tone. All the sadness, all the longing she once felt suddenly evaporated into one thing. Anger.

Daenerys scoffed.

“Don’t do that.” She said, voice full of frustration.   
  
“Do what?! Ask about my son Dany?!” He was screaming now and she resisted the urge to slap him across his face. The audacity this man had. 

Reluctantly, she checked behind her to make sure Rhae hadn’t woken due to the volume before stepping outside and closing the door behind her. 

“ _ My _ son is sleeping, keep your voice down!” She whisper-yelled at him once the door was safely shut behind them. 

The rain was pouring down hard around them and stray drops seeped through the cover and into her skin. 

“Our son.” Jon corrected and Dany felt her fist tighten in her palm . 

  
“Like hell he is! My gods, you have some kind of nerve to come marching up here after all these years and demand me to answer a question you already know the answer to.” She exclaimed, frustration reaching an all time high as her lilac eyes bore into his grey ones. 

“What do you mean I already know the answer?” He asked, playing dumb. That was the last thing Dany needed or wanted to deal with right right now. She huffed, turning away and moving to the far side of the porch. 

“Don’t pretend I didn’t tell you in those letters. “ 

Jon’s wet and firm hand grasped her arm and pulled her back to face him.

  
  


“What letters?” His voice was like iron and this time, Dany didn’t fight the urge to slap him. She just did, loud and crisp through the air. Her palm stung and her eyes burned as his grip loosened. Anger roared within her, those letters meant the world to him and he had just discarded them. Did he even bother to read them?

“I poured my heart out to you day after day for over a year! All ll throughout my pregnancy, when my brothers died, all of it! I wrote till you until I couldn’t anymore! And you never replied! Not once so don’t you dare ask me what letters! You have no right to ask me that!” She yanked her arm free and moved past him towards the front door. 

She had spent so long, so long envisioning seeing him again. Of his apologies and him finally being a part of Rhae’s life as his father, of their reunion. Learning to trust him again and falling back into him as if he had never left. 

They had been passing child fantasies, daydreams she let herself slip into whenever the loneliness would become too much in her and Drogo’s cold bed. She had been so foolish to let them get to her, to form an image of them that would never be. 

Her hand reached for the cool knob of the front door and she stopped herself. There was so much left unsaid between them. So much. As much as her mind was screaming at her to go inside and lock the door behind her. To forget that she had seen him and keep herself and her son away from him. Her body didn’t agree. 

  
“Dany I-” 

She turned to face him, anger burning through her as she stared him down. 

“Stop calling me that! You lost that right the day you abandoned in that gods forsaken field. I sat there for hours, baking in the heat waiting for you. You don-” she was flustered. Gods, she hadn’t been flustered in years. 

Dany took a deep breath, hands loosening to grip the fabric of her night gown in order to steady herself. 

“You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore, never again.” 

Jon stared at her, his demanding presence had simmered down and he looked at her with a hopelessness that made her heart clench in her chest. For a moment, she wanted to forget all the pain he had caused her but she couldn’t. It had been a defining part of her life for so long, she wasn’t sure she knew who she was without it. 

“I-I never got any letters Dan-Daenerys.” Hearing him correct himself on her name wasn’t as satisfying as she thought it would just seconds ago. 

It made him sound like a stranger. Which she guessed he was now. 

“I never got your letters.” He breathed out and she cocked her head in confusion, truly hearing him this time. 

Shock rose in her throat like bile, that didn’t make any sense. It burned and ached and spread from her throat to her chest. 

That’s not possible. 

“I-I sent them. I always did, to your home in Oldtown. I sent them. I know I did.” 

She wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes had widened and her heart was staggered, gaze trained on the wooden patio floor and it’s chipped dirty white paint. She had always made it a priority to take the long walk from the house to the mailbox. Putting it there herself. She had always sent it. 

“I would’ve wrote you back, if I had known. I would’ve wrote you back.”

He needed to stop. None of it, none of it made any sense. She felt faint, turning away from him she reached out for one of the house pillars. Gripping it for dear life as she tried to regain her balance. 

He was lying. He had to be. 

“Why are you doing this?” Her voice was small, barely heard over the patter of rains but Jon had moved behind her and heard every word. 

“Daenerys, ju-” 

“You left me.”She stated and he winced. 

“I-” 

“You left me!” She screamed, looking up at him. Tears were streaming down her face and her insides felt like they were on fire. Jon stayed silent under her incredulous gaze. 

“You left me! You left me!” Her hands connected with his chest before she realized she had raised them, fist beating down against his damp shirt over and over again. She repeated the three words like a mantra as she cried and hit him. Jon grabbed her wrists but it didn’t stop her movements. 

He left her when she needed him most. To marry an abusive man she didn’t love, to raise a child on her own when she herself was a child. They were supposed to forge their own little world where they could be truly happy in Mereen. Where she could love and be loved. They were going to find a future worth living with each other. 

And he left her and all they could’ve been. He never showed, he left her with no explanation. He was just gone. 

Her words jumbled together as her movements grew weaker. Jon pulled her into him and if she had the strength to fight him, she would have. Instead, she sunk into his cool, wet skin as he held her in his arms. Right hand smoothing over her hair as she broke down and cried. 

“I’ve got you Storm, I’ve got you.”    
  


She hated him more than she ever had over the years in that moment. Not because he had left her or for the letters that had long gone unanswered but for one damning fact. That no matter how much time passed, no matter how many wrongs she endured, he would always have this affect on her. 

She hated him because she loved him.

She was sure she always would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been almost a year since I updated but anything's possible under quarantine. Let me know what you guys think?


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